He was a man no one dared to refuse. When he came to your house and asked for your hand, your father said no. That single word sealed everything.

Your father rushed you into the car, trying to flee, but in the rearview mirror, headlights burned closer, faster. The roar of engines grew louder until black vehicles closed in from every side, blocking every exit.

Doors opened, men with guns stepped out, and then he appeared, his eyes cold and merciless. And in that moment, you knew—there was no running from him.